Beginnings
by ZombieJazz
Summary: Olivia's baby arrives - but not without complications. Elliot's there to help her through, though. But being a single mother after a difficult pregnancy is hard - especially as her return to SVu is looming. Story 2 of series.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Beginnings**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law & Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Will (and his family) and Noah have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: Olivia's baby arrives - but not without complications. Elliot's there to help her through, though. This story is set after Changes and is a prequel to A Complicated State of Happiness and Undeserved.**

**Author's Notes: This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. Her relationship with Elliot is that of partner and protective older brother and colleague.**

Elliot paced a little bit, keeping his hands drawn across his chest.

Something was wrong, he'd decided nearly an hour ago now.

Olivia had been particularly quiet at work that day. She'd been saddled on desk duty for months at that point with her pregnancy – but she still usually made sure to get her two-cents in on about any case that was up for discussion in the squad room. Not that day, though. She hadn't even been participating in the general chatter.

He'd asked her a couple times if she was OK – but she'd just brushed it off saying she was tried; that it was hard to find any comfortable position to sleep it at the moment. His partner's small frame – she looked about as big as a house at that point, even though he knew she still had just over a month left until her due date. And, besides, he'd heard it all and seen it all before from Kathy – and he didn't want to push it with his partner.

Still, watching how she got in and out of her chair to pick up files or documents from the printer – or more frequently to shuffle to the restroom – he could tell she was uncomfortable. He thought she was a little crazy to still be at work. But she just brushed that off too, saying she was just pushing paper. Lots of women stayed in their office jobs until just days before the birth of their baby, she'd argued. It had taken her doctor convincing her with gestational diabetes and being an older first-time mother, she should take some bed rest at the end of her pregnancy. So she'd reluctantly agreed to hand in the paperwork for a few weeks leave before starting her maternity leave with the arrival of her baby. But she wasn't even leaving for that for another about week and a half.

Throughout the pregnancy he'd done his best to keep his nose out of her business and not interject his opinion – or bits of wisdom. She'd made clear from the get-go that she didn't much appreciate it and didn't want to hear it. He worried about her, though.

He knew being a single mother would be a struggle for her – and that it hadn't been an easy pregnancy for her. Beyond having to deal with the health complications that had cropped up – she was having to do it all alone. The asshole who'd knocked her up had disappeared from the scene. She'd been left with the difficult choice of wanting to be a mother but knowing she'd be raising the child on her own. It was a rough choice for anyone and a harder reality still when it was your first child and you also had your job security and career to think about – having that income to care for your child.

He'd known, though, it wasn't much of a choice for her. They hadn't had a discussion about it. But he didn't think she'd had to give it much thought. She wanted to be a mother. At her age and stage in life, he didn't think she had to maul over it very long to know it might be one of her last opportunities to get to do it that way. It wasn't an ideal situation – it was far from conventional – but it was her chance. He'd never known his partner to ever have the most conventional life or end up in the most ideal situations anyways. He knew she could handle it – even if he wished for her sake that it had been in better circumstances; that she'd been married or at least had a boyfriend – or that the father had made some sort of commitment to helping with the child. But that was her business and he knew she'd work it out. He knew she'd be a good mother. It wasn't his place to badger her – no matter how much he wanted to. He knew if he did, though, it would create a friction between them that might be difficult to repair. She'd be needing him – and everyone else around her – more than ever before. It wasn't the time to create strain in the relationship.

Still his concern during the day had only increased when he saw her placing her hand on her baby bump more than usual. He was finding it difficult to not hen-pick her about what was wrong and if she was OK – to tell her what she should be doing.

Olivia had definitely tried to hide the pregnancy for quite a while. Elliot had figured it out pretty quickly. He spent enough time with her that he saw the telltale signs of an early pregnancy. Even though she'd reluctantly confirmed his suspicions, he'd kept it to himself. It wasn't his place to be telling others. But her steady weight gain had made it obvious to even those who weren't in the know that something was likely up. The changing in wardrobe from her usual well-fitting tees and blouses to near constant baggy sweaters and giantly-puffy winter jacket had only raised more suspicions. She did work surrounded by detectives, after all. It had only been a matter of time before she was really showing and it had to be public knowledge. The whole don't-ask-don't-tell aspect kind of fell to the wind. You didn't need to ask. It was clear she was pregnant.

Still, she tried to be casual about it. She hardly talked about it. He'd even noticed that when she initially did start to feel the baby moving, she'd try to be conscious about not leaving her hand there feeling it. The initial reaction to move her hand to her growing abdomen would be tempered by her telling herself to move it away so as to not attract attention. He'd seen it in her face more than once. That day, though, he'd seen her resting her hand on the bump more than not.

"The baby moving around a lot today?" He'd asked.

She'd only nodded. But as the day progressed, in addition to her hand keeping the baby company, he'd also seen her squirming in her chair – sometimes almost cringing.

It was nearing the end of the day when he finally decided to push it a little harder. He'd stood and put his jacket on, looking at her. She was trying to look like she was still working. He really didn't think she'd accomplished much of anything that day. She'd seemed too distracted and in too much discomfort.

"I'm taking off," he told her. "Do you want a lift home?"

She looked up from whatever she was typing away at on the computer.

"Thanks, but I'm OK," she'd just said. "I want to get this wrapped up before I head out."

"You look like you could use a ride home today, Liv," he'd pushed.

She looked at him and sighed. "I'm fine, El. I'll get a cab." But even as she said it, she shifted in her chair again and her hand went back to the baby.

"Liv, you sure you're OK over there?"

She shifted some more. "Yeah. I just keep having some Braxton Hicks today," she said in a hushed voice.

He looked at her. She was only in what he guessed was her 35th week, based on the due date she'd eventually told the squad. But he knew enough about pregnancy and watching his wife go through it – that he didn't think that Braxton Hicks contractions were supposed to go on consistently all day. He didn't want to say it out loud and get her riled up and pissed off at him – but he wondered if it was a bit more than false labour.

"Com'on," he's said. "I'll give you a lift to the hospital then. Get it checked out."

"Elliot," she snapped at him and glared. It was the mind-your-own-business tone that she'd really perfected over the course of her pregnancy.

He glanced around the squad room. Munch and Fin were still out in the field. At that point in the day, he wasn't even sure if they'd come back or just head their respective ways when they were done. Cragen was still around but buried in his office and not exactly babysitting Olivia. The rest of the area around them was going through shift change. Beyond them being distracted with starting up their work days, he doubted that Olivia was close enough – or rather she was too proud – to say anything to any of them if something really was wrong or she started feeling worse.

He sat back down. "I'll wait until you're ready," he shrugged.

She glared at him again. "Elliot, I'm fine," she hissed at him. "Go home – to Kathy and the kids – to your own baby."

He just shrugged at her again. "They're used to me being late."

She shook her head and looked back to what she was working on. "That got your marriage in trouble before. Don't go back down that road on my account."

He crossed his arms and glared back at her. He wanted to tell her off for that jab. She knew he'd been really trying to patch things up with Kathy – especially since Eli, now a toddler, had been born – for his whole family. He didn't want or need her critique of his marriage and family life – especially right now. But instead, he just said, "Humour me. Let me take you over to get it checked out. You've looked like you've been in pain all day."

"Elliot, this is the last time I'm saying it – I'm fine. Go home," she said.

"Humour me," he said again.

She slammed down her pen harder than was really necessary – a vain attempt to make a point. "El, I've had Braxton Hicks almost my entire pregnancy. I know what they feel like."

He shrugged. "Then you shouldn't be in the hospital long. Get checked out and I'll give you a lift home."

"You're pissing me off," she warned.

"That's not new."

She sighed. "Fine. Whatever. This chair is as uncomfortable as fuck anyways. I'm sure the ones that I'll get to sit on for hours in the ER waiting to be told it's just some false contractions will be much more comfortable."

He gave her a smile for her efforts at sarcasm. "Good. I'm glad. Way to see the positives."

He'd gone in with her – making sure she did actually stay and get checked and also following up on the promise to give her a lift home after she was done. But she hadn't had to wait for hours. She'd been taken back within about 10 minutes of checking in with the triage nurse.

But that had been more than 90 minutes ago now – if not pushing two hours. He didn't think they'd have her back there that long if it was just Braxton Hicks but no one was telling him anything. They weren't there on police business. It was private – personal – and he had no official connection to her. He was just some guy who'd come in with her. The attendant had reception had been stern with him and told him to go back and sit down and wait when he'd near angrily asked what the hell was going on with his partner. He hated being stuck in the waiting room – not knowing what the was happening. So he paced.

A nurse finally came out the sliding doors and called out. "Is the man who came in with Olivia Benson still here? Elliot?"

He brought his hand down from where he had been rubbing at his eyes in his rising stress. "Yeah," he said and made a beeline to her, nearly tripping over the other people and crying children lounged out on chairs in their long wait to be seen by a doctor.

She waved for him to follow her into the exam area of the ER but then quickly diverted down another hallway and away from emergency. He did a look back over his shoulder as they left the area – his worry rising.

"You're the father?" The nurse said.

"Ah, no," Elliot said, questioningly.

"She said her partner was in the waiting room."

"Work partners," he said. "We're cops."

The nurse stopped and looked at him. She raised her eyebrows – and sighed and mumbled something under her breath. "OK, just … oh, whatever. She's asking for you."

Elliot nodded. "She's OK?"

The nurse raised her eyebrows again and then started walking more hastily down the hall. "No one came out to talk to you?"

He moved to catch up with her. "The front-desk wouldn't tell me anything."

She glanced at him – as they came to a stop in a change area. "You can put your jacket and whatever in one of the lockers back there. Roll up your sleeves. Scrub down," she nodded toward the sink. "I'll get you some scrubs and smock and the rest of it."

He looked at her. "What the hell is going on? Is Olivia OK?"

The nurse sighed. "She's had a placental abruption. The baby's in distress. She's being prepped for an emergency cesarean right now. At first she said there wasn't anyone we could call for her but then she started asking for you. Maybe you can calm her down – or the doc might need to put her out for it. She's in a bit of shock – more mental and emotional at this point than physical."

Elliot gaped at her for a split second but then pushed it out of his head and turned to the sink and scrubbing up to his elbows. He changed so quickly he barely remembered doing it and then scrubbed again. The nurse handed him a smock, mask, gloves, booties and hair net and lead him down the hall again after he'd pulled them on.

She lead him down the hall again. Through the window of the door to the operating room, he could see lots of activity – and so many people milling around a body on the table. He couldn't recognize it as his partner at that point. There was just too much going on – and it was such a foreign environment to see her in. It was just medical equipment and doctors and sheets and curtains and IVs – that's all he could register in his mind. Kathy had had to have a c-section with the twins – but he didn't remember it looking like this. But he supposed it would've been seeing it through different eyes and a different perspective. Hers also wasn't done as an emergency situation.

The nurse pushed the door open with her shoulder and lead him in, taking him the long way around – so he still couldn't see much of anything and he was doing his best not to look. He didn't think Olivia would want him looking too closely. Though with all the sheets around her – from the glimpse he got, it looked like about the only thing to see was her swollen abdomen.

The nurse gently touched Olivia's forehead as they reached her. She looked like she was still coming down from a tizzy – though she was quiet. She was much calmer than he expected from what the nurse had said. But she seemed a little detached in the moment. He suspected they'd given her something to calm her down a bit. She looked like there had been tears though.

"I found him for you," the nurse told her – and tapped the back of a chair that had been pulled up to near her head. Elliot nodded and sat down and the nurse disappeared.

"Hey," he gave Olivia a small smile. He wasn't sure if it was completely clicking in her head that he was there yet. He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "How you doing?"

"They said the baby isn't doing well," she said quietly. "They're doing a c-section."

He nodded. "Yeah, the nurse told me."

"I didn't want to have him this way," she almost whispered.

He gave her hand another squeeze. "It will be OK," he assured her.

"You're late for dinner," she said, glancing at something else on the other side of them – or maybe just looking away from his steady gaze now.

He gave her a smile. "That's OK too. I called Kathy already."

"Did Kathy ever have to have one of these?"

He nodded. "Yeah, with the twins."

"I'm sorry, El," she said. She shook her head and stared at the ceiling.

"You're OK," he told her.

"Fuck," she said. "I didn't want to have him like this." A couple tears came out.

"He's just got some other plans, Liv. Wants to meet you sooner. He'll be here soon."

The surgeon came up to the front of the bed. "We're going to start now," he told her. She nodded and then brought her eyes back to Elliot and he gave her another smile.

"I'm sorry," she said again.

He shook his head. "I owed you one anyways – or you owed me one – getting to be there for Eli while I missed it."

"What's that sound?" She asked as there was a whirling noise.

"You want me to see if one of the nurses can get a mirror for you to watch?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't think I can."

He nodded. "They're just getting you opened up, Liv. That's all the sound is."

"I'm not ready," she said. "I don't even have the bassinette together yet at the apartment. I don't have a car seat here. I don't have anything."

"Don't worry about that right now. It will get sorted out."

"What are they doing now?"

"Do you want me to look?"

She nodded and he looked around the curtain. But he couldn't see much beyond her belly, hands of the three or four doctors working on her - and some blood.

"They're still working on you," he just told her.

She looked up to the ceiling again, tears filling her eyes. "I can't believe this is happening right now. He's early."

"He's going to be OK, Liv," he told her again. "Lots of babies arrive a little early."

She nodded – just as there was a suctioning sound.

"You're going to feel some pressure, Olivia," one of the doctors said.

Elliot gave her another smile and squeezed her hand a bit tighter. "He's almost here. You're doing good, Liv."

"Urgh," she almost grunted. She thought she might vomit. She hated that her partner was seeing her like this – half naked, afraid, vulnerable, bloody. But she didn't want to be alone. She was scared.

"We've got his head, Olivia," the doctor said again.

She looked at Elliot. "Oh God. Can you see him?"

He looked around the curtain again and could see the doctors working around the top of the baby's birth-covered head.

He gave her a smile. "I see him."

"He's OK?" She asked – her voice expectant but filled with a touch of doubt.

He nodded. "He looks good, Liv." He squeezed her hand again.

"Can I see him?"

"They haven't got him all the way out yet."

Her tears started coming harder and she tried to blink them away. One of the nurses stepped forward and dabbed at them for her with a tissue as Elliot was watching back on the other side of the curtain again. He looked back at her.

"They're just cleaning out his airways right now."

There was a cry.

"That's him?" She gasped, her eyes getting bigger.

Elliot nodded.

"He sounds good," she said, a touch of happiness creeping into her voice now.

"Good, strong, loud lungs," Elliot said.

"We're going to press down on the upper part of your abdomen now, Olivia," the surgeon said. "You're likely going to feel it – like a strong contraction – but then your baby is going to be here."

She shook her head. "Oh my God," she said, like she couldn't believe it was happening. The pressure was intense and it felt like it took forever – even though she knew it must've only been maybe 30 seconds at most.

"We've got him," the doctor said. "It's a boy."

Hands came above the curtain and held up the screaming baby for her to see.

"Oh my God," she said again – her face lighting up and smile spreading and more tears coming. But the baby disappeared back behind the curtain. "When can I hold him? I want to hold him," she said quickly, almost with an edge of panic.

"We're just getting him cleaned up," one of the medical people on the other side of the curtain said. "You'll see him over on your left in just a second."

Elliot squeezed her hand. "He's here. He looks good, Liv. Head of hair on him already." He gave her a big smile.

He didn't think she heard him. She was straining her neck to see as the nurses brought the baby to the table to clean off the amniotic fluid, suction at his nose and mouth and take his measurements.

"Oh my God," she just kept saying. "He's so small. How much? How much does he weigh?"

"Five pounds, six ounces," the one nurse said, "and 17 inches long. Ten fingers and ten toes. You going to cut the umbilical cord?"

Liv nodded at Elliot. "Go see him, please. Talk to him, please. Talk to him."

He stood and walked over and touched the screaming baby's tiny red fist. "Hey, there, big man," he turned back and give his partner a smile. "Had to see the world a little early, eh? Giving mom a rough time already?"

The nurse handed him the eyes of the surgical scissors, already gripped in place. "You're just going to cut between here." He did as he was told – and then the nurses started strapping a diaper onto him and swaddling him – pulling the cap further over his head.

The nurse picked up the baby and put him into Elliot's arms. He wasn't expecting that. He was holding his partner's baby even before her. The feeling washed over him – the joy of holding a new little person who'd just arrived in the world, not yet knowing the pain or terror or horror that lurked in it. A new beginning – for him and all he had to look forward to and for Olivia. He felt so happy for her – also in a way he hadn't expected.

He'd watched his partner interact with young victims for years. He'd watched her ache about how her mother had treated her – about not knowing her father. He'd watched her struggle with being a child of rape. He'd seen her bounce between failed relationships and watched her grow and get older – and still not have found someone to settle down with. Then for the last several years he'd seen her growing desire to have a baby – to not be alone, to be part of a family. He'd known she'd looked at other options – adoption, in-vitro – but that hadn't worked out for her either. Then she'd ended up pregnant. Clearly unplanned but clearly something she'd been wanting and had probably nearly given up believing would happen for her. But now he was holding this tiny little infant, already with wisps of his partner's brown hair. He was pretty sure he could see her stubborn pout in the baby's little puckered up lips too.

"You can take him over to mom now," the nurse told him. "You can visit for a bit before we have to take him down to neo-natal to get checked out and under the warmer."

He bounced the baby close to his chest and took him the few metres back to Olivia.

"Here he is," he told her and gently placed the baby on her chest and helped her bring her one arm up while keeping a hand on the infant to keep him in place. "Here's mommy big man."

"Hey, Noah," she whispered. "Oh my God, look at you. Hey, Noah. Hi, sweetheart."

The baby squirmed a bit but had quieted in the swaddling. His eyes already shut and his mouth starting to make suckling motions. He'd want his mom's breast soon – if she'd be able to feed.

Elliot smiled at her. "Hey Noah," he said too, quietly, testing out the name she'd picked for her baby. She hadn't told him what she was thinking ahead of time. He had avoided asking – despite his curiosity. He liked it. He thought it worked: Noah Benson.

"It means comfort," she said, almost like she knew he was weighing the name in his own mind. That just made it fit even more, though. He truly hoped that this baby could be the comfort he thought his partner had been looking for for most of her life.

"Did you pick a middle name?"

"Evan," she said quietly, gazing at the child so intently. He didn't think she was going to like it when the nurses scooped him away so the doctors could finish sewing her up and get her into recovery while they examined her pre-term baby in NICU.

"Noah Evan Benson," Elliot said and gave her a smile. "Sounds like trouble already."

She smiled. "Nah, he'll be a heartbreaker, not a troublemaker."

He shifted from watching the baby to looking at her. Her eyes were still glassy but she was glowing. Happiness he'd never seen in his partner before had settled over her. He stroked his thumb across her forehead before moving his hand doing the same down the infant's tiny cheek.

"He's beautiful, Liv," he told her. "Looks about perfect."

She nodded and gave him a smile.

"El, can you help me bring him closer to my face?" She didn't take her eyes off the baby as she said it.

Elliot shifted the baby on her a bit, moving him forward and she gave her newborn son a kiss, and then settled him against her, cheek-to-cheek.

"I'm so happy you're here, Noah," she whispered. "I've been waiting for you a long time."

**Vaguely considering doing another couple scenes for this one - showing the early days or weeks of Noah's life. If you might be interested, let me know. Otherwise, you can pick up on Olivia's adventures in motherhood in A Complicated State of Happiness and Undeserved**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Beginnings**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law & Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Will (and his family) and Noah have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: Olivia's baby arrives - but not without complications. Elliot's there to help her through, though. This story is set after Changes and is a prequel to A Complicated State of Happiness and Undeserved.**

**Author's Notes: This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. Her relationship with Elliot is that of partner and protective older brother and colleague.**

Elliot gave her a small smile as he came into her recovery room and pulled the curtain back shut behind him. She looked exhausted – and still a little emotional, though also almost right out of it. She still had an IV going into her one arm and a blood transfusion working its way into her system in the other.

He sat down in the chair next to the bed. "How you doing?" He asked.

She shook her head. She eyes looked heavy. "It's all kind of a blur. I feel sore."

He snorted a little. "Yeah, I guess so. They cut you open and pulled a five pound baby out of you, Olivia. You lost a lot of blood too with the placenta abruption."

She nodded weakly. "I know. But they said the baby's OK?" She asked hopefully. "Are they bringing him to me soon?"

He looked down. "I think they're going to bring him in for you to get to spend some time with him again after they get you moved into your own room in a couple hours."

"But he's OK?"

Elliot looked at her again. "Have they talked to you about it much yet?"

She nodded. "I just feel so foggy. I'm not sure. They said he's OK. But he's in NICU? But he's OK?"

Elliot gave her a weak smile. "Yeah, Liv. He's OK." He gripped her hand. "Listen, I think he's going to have to spend a few days here, though. He's pre-term. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "But he's OK?"

He nodded. "Olivia, I just don't want you to be shocked when they bring him over. He's in an oxygen tent right now and they have him under a warmer and an IV in him."

She shook her head. "Why?"

She just seemed so spacey. She was still coming out of the effects of surgery and he knew they'd likely given her some drugs to help with the pain as well. He wasn't sure what they would've given her when she'd be trying to breastfeed the baby soon – but it must've been something. He wasn't sure how much success she'd have with feeding the baby anyways and maybe they'd weighed that into their decision of what to give her. Preemies usually had trouble latching on. They were already giving him hydration and nutrients by IV because they weren't expecting him to be able to nurse on his own.

He didn't want to tell her that, though – or that based on his understanding, she likely wouldn't have success breastfeeding her baby at all. Noah was likely going to need to be IV and syringe feed for the next several days or weeks – until he eventually learned up to latch onto a bottle. When he gained some strength and didn't tire as easily. But how do you get a baby to grow, put on weight and thrive – when getting him to nurse is such a struggle? He knew it was going to be an extra hurdle for his partner to mount with the baby. He'd let the nursing staff get into that with her, though. It wasn't his place and she wasn't there enough yet to have any sort of discussion about it right then anyways.

"Liv, the baby's lungs mature in the last several weeks of pregnancy, right? So Noah didn't have a chance to do that. So he needs some extra help right now."

"But he was breathing," she said. "He was crying. I heard him. I held him. He was fine."

He nodded. "Yeah, he's breathing on his own, Liv. He's just struggling a little bit so they're just giving him some extra help right now."

"But they're bringing him over, right? So I can hold him? I need to feed him," she said. It sounded like she was starting to get wound up.

He sighed. "Liv, the nurse told me that he has to stay in the oxygen tent until he's able to breath room air without any difficulty. But you're going to be able to touch him and hold his hand and be with him – soon."

"So how long will he be in the tent then?" She asked.

He squeezed her hand again. "They didn't really say."

"How am I going to feed him then?"

He pulled the chair a bit closer to her bed and looked at her. "Liv, that's what the IV is for. They are getting him hydrated that way and getting him the nutrients he needs."

She shook her head. "But I need to feed him," she said, sounding confused.

He gave her a weak smile. "You can't right now, Liv. But they are making sure he gets everything he needs. They're taking really good care of him."

Suddenly her face started to look paler. "He's alone, right now? El, you left him alone?"

He'd gone with the nurses when the baby had been taken away from her – no more than 10 minutes after he'd been born, if even that. He'd been told he needed to leave the OR at that point anyways – but Liv had almost gone into a panic when they'd taken the baby off her chest to get him checked out and under the warmer. So he'd promised to stay with him – and had.

"He's with the nurses, Olivia. And Cragen is standing right outside the door making sure they're taking real good care of him."

Her jaw dropped a bit and she started shaking her head. "El, you didn't."

"You were going to have to tell him anyways. He cares about you. He's just checking in to make sure you're OK. He's staying with Noah while I come over here and talk to you."

"Now everyone knows," she sounded embarrassed.

He smiled. "Liv, everyone was going to know you had the baby anyways. Everyone wants to know. I think Munch won the baby pool. He's going to want his money and beer."

She sighed and looked at the ceiling.

"How much longer do I have to stay here? When can I go to my own room and have them bring over Noah?"

"Your attending nurse told me when I came in that you'd be in here with them monitoring you for at least a couple more hours. Maybe you should try to sleep," he suggested gently.

"I just want to see Noah," she said sadly.

"I know, but it's still going to be a little while before they're able to bring him over – and they can't have him in here. You aren't going to get many more opportunities for uninterrupted sleep for the next several months – you might as well try to take advantage of it."

She gave him a weak smile – and looked away.

"Thanks for staying, El," she said very quietly.

"Hey, what are friends for, if not delivering each other's babies, right?"

She made a small snort and looked at him.

"I'll go back down to NICU," he told her. "I just wanted to check on you. You want me to send Cragen up to sit with you for a while?"

She shook her head. "I don't want him to see me like this. You seeing me like this is bad enough."

"It's horrible. Who would've imagined that a pregnant woman would be laid up after giving birth?"

She gave him a pretty weak glare. "You know what I mean."

He gave her hand another squeeze. "OK. Rest. I'll be back with another update on the big man in a while."


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: Beginnings**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law & Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Will (and his family) and Noah have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: Olivia's baby arrives - but not without complications. Elliot's there to help her through, though. This story is set after Changes and is a prequel to A Complicated State of Happiness and Undeserved.**

**Author's Notes: This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. Her relationship with Elliot is that of partner and protective older brother and colleague.**

Elliot followed her into her apartment after she'd unlocked it and trudged in. She was still favouring her abdomen and walking in a stride that suggested her discomfort. But they'd released her. It was a little surprised they'd managed to get her to leave the hospital, though. He partially suspected she was humouring him in letting him drive her home – and that not long after he was out the door she'd be calling the cab and headed back.

She'd gotten to see Noah again about six hours after he'd been born and gaze at him from a wheelchair that a nurse had snuck her into to take her down to NICU. But she had had to wait for a long 36 hours before she'd even gotten to go in and hold her little boy's hand through the hole in the oxygen tent and warming bed – where a mess of wires was still coming off of him.

The wait and the frustration had been made worse as she was held up in her own hospital bed – worrying and stressing about when she'd get to see her baby, when she'd get to nurse him, what the missed bonding time would mean and if he was really OK. It made the hours seem endless – no matter how many drugs they were pumping into her to deal with the pain she was still experiencing. She just felt like she'd spent the time drifting in and out of agitated consciousness.

It'd only been made harder by the fact that she hadn't yet been allowed to hold him again. It pained her. But he still had too many wire and IVs and feeding tubes and monitors attached to him. Her initial joy at seeing the screaming little baby in the OR had quickly been replaced by the terror of feeling a fragile infant, yellow with jaundice and squeaking as he tried to take in air into his under-developed lungs.

But at least he was there – and he was alive – and she was alive. She'd been kicking herself and cursing herself. She'd had a silent placenta abruption. There hadn't been the rush of blood out of her – creating the telltale shock that something was seriously wrong. Instead the blood had been collecting and building the pressure behind her placenta – and she'd sat there all day convincing herself that it was just Braxton Hicks and she wasn't going to embarrass herself for the third time in less than two weeks by calling her OB-GYN and complaining that she thought she was going into premature labour. If Elliot hadn't noticed she seemed off and hadn't twisted her arm into going to the hospital – her baby could be dead. She could be dead.

They'd sent her home on the fourth day. She'd initially gone and sat in the family waiting room outside the NICU waiting for the times she could go in and hold her baby's little hand and stroke his little face and belly and arms and legs and feet. But the chairs in there were so uncomfortable with her still healing abdominal and pelvic surgery. And times she was allowed to go in were so few and far between as the other families shuffled through too. The number of people inside and the actual visits were all too brief as the neonatologist and the nurses in the unit enforced a calm and quiet environment for the over-sensitive babies. They couldn't be over-stimulated. Their little, fragile bodies – ears, skin and eyes - couldn't handle it.

So, she was having to accept that it was the nurses who were providing the best care possible for her tiny son at the moment. They were the ones watching over him and making sure he was warm and changed and fed – by feeding tube or sometimes with a syringe. She'd been told that they'd got him to latch onto a bottle a couple times so far to get some formula but he was struggling.

She'd told the doctors she had planned to breastfeed. But with the early delivery and her not getting to be near the baby – she wasn't even producing enough milk when they had tried to pump. She was having a breastfeeding failure. They'd said that she could talk to a lactation consultant as Noah improved and see if they could coax him into breastfeeding and see if she'd begin lactating better. But they'd also warned that pre-term babies – no matter how late pre-term they were – often struggled with latching on and would tired quickly when they did. With Noah it was likely going to be a larger challenge because his lung development wasn't up to par and he would struggle with the suck, swallow, breath reflex. They'd stressed it was important to get the food and nutrients into him for his hydration and development – they didn't want him to fail to thrive. So she might just have to accept that she wasn't going to get to breastfeed her baby. It was another aspect of the motherhood experience that she just wasn't going to get to have.

It was hard. It felt like everything she'd planned in terms of how she wanted to have her baby and how she planned to spend those first days, weeks and months with him was being compromised. It was made worse with all the morphine and hormones churning through her system. She felt herself teetering on the edge of becoming a weepy post-partum mess more than once and it was taking all she had to keep it together. She thought if Elliot hadn't been checking in on her at the hospital so much – she likely would just be a huddled ball of tears and snot blubbering at the hospital staff.

But she'd had remind herself too that it could be far worse. The doctors had told her she'd be taking her son home likely in a matter of weeks, if not days. There were other parents there who'd been standing guard over their small babies for months. She'd seen the babies who were 1 lbs and ones born at 28 weeks. She'd seen the triplets who were smaller than her son even though they'd been born at 37 weeks. Then there were the babies who looked so incredibly fragile that she wondered how all this medical technology would guide them through – and if the child would actually grow up to be healthy after enduring all of this.

She knew her and her little boy were doing far better than many of the families in the NICU. Still, she had to admit that she'd thought of already – and begun asking questions about what this would mean for her boy in the long-term – his respiration, his eye sight, his weight and growth, his ability to thrive, his immune system and his cognitive development. Would he really be OK? They told her, yes, he likely should be. That most babies born in the 35th and 36th week of gestation really are so late-term, that they usually end up as normal, healthy, happy children. They just need some help getting through the first hurdles in the early days. So she tried to calm herself and reluctantly allowed Elliot to drive her home – to sit somewhere that wasn't quite as hard and as sterile for a few hours at least.

It felt strange stepping into her apartment, though. She was a mother now – and she was supposed to be bringing home her baby. Instead she was alone – expect for her partner trailing in quietly behind her. The quietness of the space somehow made it feel even more lonely and depressing than before. It wasn't how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to have Noah with her.

"You want me to put your bag in the bedroom for you?" Elliot offered, slinging the small duffle off his shoulder.

She rubbed at her eyebrow and examined the floor. "Ah, no, it's OK. You can just leave it there," she offered, gesturing to the floor near the kitchen counter where he was standing.

He nodded reluctantly. She knew it wasn't a big deal for him to walk a few more feet to her bedroom door to put the bag there – but she really just wanted him to leave. She knew he had been trying to be helpful over the last several days but the reality was she was already feeling like a failure as a mother and had so many emotions and thoughts about everything that was going on spinning through her head. She just wanted to be alone for a while.

She didn't want to have a chat with Elliot. She didn't want him to give her those 'It's OK' looks or for him to try to be her older brother or whatever the fuck he tried to be to her. She didn't want him to keep offering his help. She just wanted him to leave her in peace for a while.

"We put the bassinet together in the bedroom for you," he said.

Olivia had reluctantly let him take the keys to her apartment so he could retrieve some things for her to bring to the hospital and so he could put together the crib she'd been stressing about not being ready and waiting at home. But that had been when she still thought she'd be walking out of the hospital with her baby – not empty handed.

She nodded. "Thanks."

"If you'll be sleeping in here so you can sit upright for the next while, though, I can move it out here for you," he offered.

She glanced at her couch and chair. She hadn't even really thought about any of that. It was strange to her that it was something her male partner had. But getting up and down from a laying position was still hard in her recovery from the c-section. She just hadn't processed how she'd be managing that on her own yet – or if it would still be an issue by the time she got to bring Noah home.

"It's OK," she said. "Just leave it for now."

He nodded again and pointed at the counter. "Ah, Kathy picked up some preemie diapers for you and a few smaller onesies. We thought you might need them. Some formula."

She hung her head a bit. They were right. She probably did need them now. But it was still hard to know that someone else had to think of that for her too – and that the someone else had to be Kathy.

Her and Kathy had managed to smooth some of whatever their relationship was after she'd been there for Eli's birth. Still, she knew their relationship would always be strange and one of some sort of tension. They both just had to put up with each other. They had nothing in common but Elliot and neither of them particularly liked the other, she didn't think. But they'd slowly learned to just respect the other's existence. They both played very real roles – but very different roles – in Elliot's life. It just was what it was. There was no defining it. Yet, it was now Kathy's turn to try to help her and do something nice for her. It was just something that she wasn't in the mindset to properly wrap her head around at the moment.

"Thanks," she said instead. "Tell Kathy too. That was nice of her."

Elliot watched her. She was still holding her arm, guarding across her middle – and just looked so exhausted. "Are you sure you don't want me to go out and grab you some groceries? The other night when we were here, you fridge looked like you don't eat."

She allowed him a small smile – even though she wasn't that impressed that they'd been poking around her kitchen and wondered what else they'd stuck their noses into.

"It's OK," she said. "It will give me something to do."

"You shouldn't be carrying grocery bags right now," Elliot said.

"El," she snapped, growing impatient, but held up her hand in apology and to reel herself back in. "I'm sorry. I'm fine. I don't need groceries. I just want to be alone right now."

He moved back towards the door a bit. "You know if you need anything …"

She shook her head a bit and rolled her eyes – but sighed. "I'll call."

He nodded. "OK. I'll check in on you later."

He left her and pulled the door shut behind him. She heard him – and watched – as he locked the door from the outside with the key he'd now copied, without permission, she thought.

She sighed and looked around. It didn't look or feel like home anymore. She hobbled over to the couch and worked at lowering herself down. It was uncomfortable. She winced a bit in the process. But as she settled she glanced around again – and wondered what she was supposed to be doing now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: Beginnings**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law & Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Will (and his family) and Noah have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: Olivia's baby arrives - but not without complications. Elliot's there to help her through, though. This story is set after Changes and is a prequel to A Complicated State of Happiness and Undeserved.**

**Author's Notes: This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. Her relationship with Elliot is that of partner and protective older brother and colleague.**

She gave the nurse a small smile as she helped her settle Noah against her chest and set a blanket over him before she zipped the hooide up around them both. The woman sat a bottle next to them too.

"You can try putting a drop on your nipple," she offered before she gave them some space.

Olivia just nodded silently – her eyes not moving from Noah. She loved holding him. She was obsessed with the skin-to-skin contact of the kangaroo care she was finally getting to do with him. It was so hard when it was time for her to let the nurses take him back to his warming bed.

She'd held babies before but nothing had prepared her for the calm and the attachment she felt getting to hold her son. Even when he fussed against her, she still felt this bond and relaxation in soothing him. It was a type of love she'd never experienced before and it went beyond her expectations. She couldn't believe it still. That he was hers and he was there and she was a mother. But she was loving it. Despite all the stress and all the fears she was having – the discomfort she was still in from the surgery – how small he still looked, she wouldn't trade it at the moment.

She was so happy to have him. She couldn't stop smiling when he was with her and she got to hold her hands protectively over him and listen to his soft little breathes and noises he'd make with his lips and mouth – how'd he squirm and settle against her. She couldn't help cupping his little head – full of her dark hair already. He was so beautiful and so perfect – despite everything else.

They'd been letting her hold him and help with some of his care for several days now – getting his diapers changed and feeding him. She'd been so excited the first time he latched onto the teat of the bottle for her and sucked at it hungrily for several minutes. But yesterday had been even more exciting when in the kangaroo position, he'd squirmed around and found her breast and latched on – and started suckling away. Her heart had about jumped and she'd nearly called out the nurse to tell them – but had managed to catch herself, not wanting to startle her son from the ingrained behaviour that she'd so desperately wanted to be able to do for him. She'd sat watching and listening to his sounds as he worked away at her nipple. It had felt a little strange but she'd been completely awe struck and fascinated by it. He'd eventually let go and settled almost immediately into a sleep.

Her excitement had died a little bit after Noah had been taken back to his bed and the lactation consultant had told her that he had likely just gone in for comfort suckling, not feeding suckling. It wasn't likely he'd gotten much – if any milk from her. She body just wasn't producing it for her son properly. They'd been trying the breast pumps – even the heavy duty hospital and double pumps – but it hurt her and very little was coming out. There was not nearly enough for the NICU to have a supply that Noah was getting much from her in his bottles for his numerous daily feedings. They were mostly having to depend on formula. Still the consultant had told her not to give up yet – to continue with her attempts to pump, to keep her body primed for it and as she became less stressed about everything that was happening, her milk may start to come in more and let-down.

She'd added that Noah's move to suckle her was a good sign. That the contact with her baby may get her body more in sync with what Noah's needs were and start producing more. She'd encouraged her to not be afraid to let her son feed with the bottle and then suckle at her – that that movement and relationship was just as significant. Or the other way around – let Noah suckle at her breast and then supplement with the bottle when he was done. At the very least – even if little or no milk was coming out - it was bonding behaviour from Noah and good news for continuing to form their attachment. She was giving him comfort. He knew who she was – he could smell and feel she had what he wanted and that it was there for him.

So they were trying again today. She hoped if they could get through a couple days of him feeding for her – whether it was from her bottle or breast – if they could prove he was strong enough to take any sort of nipple and suckle until sated, they'd let him go home soon. She so badly just wanted to get him home and to be able to hold him and rock him there. To show him the mobile she'd picked out for him and to get to bathe him and feed him in their own space – not the sterile hospital.

"What do you think, sweets?" She asked him softly, picking up the bottle and flicking her finger across the tip until she got some of the milk onto it. She reached under her shirt and between them and rubbed it onto the nipple he'd shown interest in the day before like the nurse had suggested. "Are you going to feed for Mommy this afternoon?"

He just snuggled against her.

She rubbed the bottle over his lips from his nose to chin like she'd been shown, trying to encourage him to take it. But he just rubbed his little face and arms against her more, rooting at her skin and chest, his little legs kicking.

The consultant had said to try to get him to her breast if he started to root at her. So she put the bottle down again for the moment and stilled her hand on his back.

"What do you say, Noah," she whispered at him. "Wouldn't it be nice for us to go home? Let's get some food into your belly, OK?"

She stroked his cheek softly and then opened her jacket a bit and lifted her breast a bit so its nipple was nearer his mouth and tried to gently guide him to it. She watched as he rooted around some more but then his mouth opened in a little yawn and closed in on her. She felt the gentle pull of his moving lips and suckle. She started the motions of massaging and trying to compress some of what she had in there out for him – like she'd been instructed to do.

She looked to the ceiling quickly – thinking she might have tears coming on but just sighed instead.

"Good job, Noah. Good job, baby."


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: Beginnings**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law & Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Will (and his family) and Noah have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: Olivia's baby arrives - but not without complications. Elliot's there to help her through, though. This story is set after Changes and is a prequel to A Complicated State of Happiness and Undeserved.**

**Author's Notes: This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. Her relationship with Elliot is that of partner and protective older brother and colleague.**

She looked at the clock next to her bed. Noah had just started to fuss – not more than two minutes before she'd set the alarm to get up and give him his feeding. She propped herself up in her bed and ran her hands through her hair, trying to truly wake herself before heading over to her infant son's bassinette.

When she'd first got bring home her baby – she'd had mixed feelings. She had so badly wanted to get him home. But that had been quickly replaced with the terror that she might break him or he might have some sort of emergency and she wouldn't have the NICU nurses there to help or care for him – that she wouldn't know what to do. That hadn't really happened, though. And, the initial trepidation and slowly settled into a routine as she and Noah worked at figuring out a routine for themselves – that revolved around his eating and sleeping schedule.

It really was an easy enough schedule – if a little exhausting. Noah wasn't really a fussy baby. She knew she was lucky with that. He just slept and slept. He'd wake and fuss a little when he wanted to be fed or against his wet diaper. Sometimes he was too cold, as he still worked at building up his weight and body fat – and she'd swaddle him and cuddle him more to warm him against her body.

Though having been home with him a few weeks now – there were moments that she started to notice herself feeling twinges of monotony about the schedule – of the feeding and burping and diaper changes and washing laundry and folding laundry and pumping breast milk and bathing him and babbling nonsense at him and comforting him as he fussed or cried and then doing it all again on an endless repeat. But then there were the moments where she was holding Noah and she just couldn't stop looking at him.

She still couldn't believe he was hers. She loved looking at his little features and letting him hold her finger in his little hand. She kept examining his tiny feet – and smelling him and feeling his soft skin against her when she held him. She loved the little sounds he made and how he'd rubbed his little ear against her chest when she placed him in kangaroo-care position with his ear against her heart – and how he'd root just a little bit at her. Each time she picked him up – she felt herself become more and more attached to him. She could feel it through her whole body – her entire being – in a way she'd never felt anything before. She loved it. It was still so mind-boggling to her that she was actually a mother and this little baby was a piece of her – to have and to hold and watch grow.

She flicked her bedside light to its dimmest position and stumbled a little over to his bassinette. She looked down at him where he was squirming and starting to turn red with small wails to her that he was hungry. She smiled down at him and picked him up, drawing him to her. She bounced him a bit.

"Feeding time already, sweets?" She asked. "It feels like we just went to sleep, doesn't it?"

She carried him out to the living room, already starting to work at hiking up her tank top for him. She settled into what had become their favourite spot on the couch and cradled him. Her son quickly found what he was looking for. She just watched his dark silhouette – listening to his greedy suckling sounds and his little breaths between his gulps. She ran her finger down his one little ear.

"You can slow down, Noah," she whispered to him. "I'm not going anywhere."

Sometimes she felt a little silly how much she talked to him. But she couldn't stop herself – and she wanted him to know her voice even though she knew it'd still be a while before she got much recognition from him that he was even really hearing or processing that she was speaking to him. She didn't care.

Noah was usually a slow feeder. Despite showing interest in feeding and having become an expert rooter, he'd dawdle after he got to it. She knew part of it was that her let-down was slow and he'd have to wait a few minutes even after he got latched on. He'd often get a little uninterested too – and his suck would change even though he wouldn't let go of her nipple. She'd have to slowly get him to let go and bring him to her other side to get him to try again.

"What's the big hurry tonight?" She asked him.

At night he was often a bit more relaxed at how he went at her. But not that night. She knew she'd be up a bit longer than usual, trying to get him to burp after. As she held him too, she could feel him have a poop. His favourite time to have a bowel movement seemed to be while he was feeding. The doctor had joked with her at his last check-up that he was an in-and-out baby.

But he was steadily putting on weight and he seemed like a happy and content baby. His jaundice had improved and his breathing wasn't showing any signs of problems since getting home. Her greatest fear was that something with his lungs might give out and she'd be so far from the hospital and waiting for the medics to arrive. She was slowly learning not to be as paranoid about it all. She knew babies were resilient. She'd seen it before. But it was still hard to look at such a tiny little person – who was hers – and tell herself that. She so desperately wanted to protect him from everything.

She felt him finish nursing and move into his comforting suckle. She knew from experience that if she let him, he'd cuddle against her and stay at her breast for up to an hour. But that wasn't going to happen in the middle of the night. She'd been warned to not let the behaviour go on too long, or the comforting might turn into something he needed and wanted before a nap or bed. She wasn't sure how much it mattered at this point, though – since his whole life seemed to revolve around sleeping, eating and pooping. So she let him continue for a bit. Besides, she kind of liked that he needed her that way and she was able to provide comfort to him – by really not doing anything but being there for him.

He squirmed a little more and brought his open mouth away from her a bit – and she gently replaced her nipple with a finger pushing down on his bottom lip. He seemed a little unimpressed at first but then adjusted to the change and she brought him up to work at burping him. Despite his greedy and gulping nursing that night, he didn't seem much interested in burping. So eventually she stood off the couch and bounced him a bit more.

"You going to burp, sweetheart? Or should we just go and get a fresh nappy on you?"

She kept bouncing him gently and patting his back as she wandered back to the bedroom and he finally did let out a little hiccup of a burp.

She smiled and patted his back some more. "Good job, Noah."

She put him down on the changing table in the corner of her bedroom. The room felt stupidly crowded at the moment – between her bed, his bassinette, the changing table and the piles of baby supplies that had taken up camp in there. She knew that she likely needed to get a bigger place. But she'd looked into it before he was born and the reality was she just couldn't afford it at the moment – not with all the other baby expenses. She'd initially thought having a newborn in a one-bedroom apartment wouldn't be that big of deal. She could wait to upgrade to a two-bedroom when he was a little older. She wanted to keep the baby near here anyways.

But she'd quickly learned that having the extra bedroom just to store the surplus of crap that she'd suddenly accumulated in her life likely should've been a bit bigger priority. Not only did all the baby stuff have her bedroom bursting at the seams, but it had exploded all over her living room and kitchen counter too. She thought it was likely a good thing that she didn't have many friends who were coming over to check in on them.

Really Elliot was the only person who was stopping by. Their first week home, he'd been by every second day – until she'd expressed to him in no uncertain terms that that was too much and he was more than crossing a line. He'd managed to reign it in to stopping by once a week at that point. She appreciated his efforts – and that he was thinking of her and trying to help. It was also nice to have a bit of adult company and conversation – even if it was only a short visit. But it also bothered her. It made her feel like he didn't think she could handle it on her own and that she needed someone checking in on her. She was fine, though, or at least she kept telling herself that. She had years of experience being alone and looking after herself. She could do that and look after a baby.

Though, sometimes as the exhaustion set in, she really could see why people had babies as couples – or they at least had their parents or families nearby to offer some help in those early days. She was still healing from her surgery, she was still getting into a routine with Noah, she was taking care of all his needs, doing all his feedings and also trying to get some food into herself and some sleep. There were definitely some days where it already was feeling overwhelming. But she knew that wasn't likely going to let up anytime soon. She knew it was part of the deal with having the baby and being a single mother. So she told herself again that it was what she wanted – that it was what she had so badly wanted – and she just tried to suck it up and focus on the beautiful little boy that she had out of it.

So the place stayed an absolute disaster and she continued to convince herself that she really had no interest in cleaning it for company. She just stumbled from one feeding to the next and one laundry to the next. She did try to tidy a bit when Noah slept – assuming she didn't need to crash into bed too to try to get a couple hours. But even what she did, it didn't much matter, it all just ended up back all over the place like a baby tornado had hit her living space.

She set him down and gathered the supplies to get him changed – and then worked at getting the diaper off her son.

"Yikes, that was a big one, Noah," she told him, as she worked at cleaning him up.

She wasn't a big fan of diaper duty. She just found it a little tedious. They'd tried to sell it as some extra one-on-one time while she got to participate in it at the NICU. Initially, when that had been some of the first one-on-one contact that she got to have with her son – she'd seen it as special. But she much preferred the cuddle time, play time and feeding time to cleaning up after his bodily functions. Though she was starting to get used to being peed on. Noah seemed to take every opportunity he had when it was all hanging out to take a pee – whether it was changing a diaper or while she gave him a little bath in the sink.

She'd been asked before they released him from NICU if she wanted to get him circumcised. It was something she'd put probably too much thought into after she'd found out she was having a boy. She kind of felt like it was an unfair question for her. What did she know? She didn't have a penis. She didn't feel qualified to make the right decision on what was best for her son in that area. While she'd worked at doing some research and making up her mind – she also hadn't thought about the fact she might be looking at a fragile, little pre-term baby when she had to give them the final answer. Part of her had wanted to say that that was something for her son to decide for himself when he was older. But it also sounded like a crappy decision and procedure for a man to have to endure when he was older – if that's what he wanted or some medical issue cropped up that he needed it. But if it sounded horrible for a grown man – why would she want to put her tiny, infant son through that? Didn't he have enough to deal with in getting through the first hurdles of life without having to have more doctors poking and prodding at him?

She'd felt like she'd gone in endless circular thought before she finally made a choice – and just hoped it was best. That she wasn't making it too much from a woman's point of view or a mother's point of view – but just from a medical or a societal point of view. At least, that's what she tried to tell herself – and told herself that it was another thing she couldn't dwell on. She'd have to make a lot of decisions for him as a parent. Right or wrong – there'd be hard ones and easy ones. She just had to suck it up and not worry that every choice she made was somehow damaging her child.

He didn't seem damaged yet. Of course, he was only just over five weeks old. How much could she really damage him in a month of life? No – that'd be a long-term effort, where he could grow to love her and hate her like all kids eventually did their mothers. She hoped he wouldn't ever hate her too much – and that she'd manage to do right by him.

She patted his belly as she finished. She could see him already starting to drift back to sleep.

"We going to sleep a little more Noah?" She asked him.

She couldn't wait until he got older and she could see his personality start to develop and learn about his interests and his talents. Watch him turn into a little person. She couldn't wait to see bits of her in him – more than his eyes and his hair. She could see that already. As much as she loved holding and cuddling with him now – she couldn't wait until he was able to hug and kiss and cuddle her back. Or that he'd babble at her. That she could have silly conversations with him and sing-song. She just couldn't wait to learn more about who he was and to share that growing experience with him. But that all was going to have to wait. One day at a time.

She rubbed his belly some more – working at soothing him back to sleep as his eyes got heavier and he stirred less and less.

"OK, sweets," she told him softly. "Mommy's going to lay down again for a while too. I'm right over there. Right here."


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: Beginnings**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law & Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Will (and his family) and Noah have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: Olivia's baby arrives - but not without complications. Elliot's there to help her through, though. This story is set after Changes and is a prequel to A Complicated State of Happiness and Undeserved.**

**Author's Notes: This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. Her relationship with Elliot is that of partner and protective older brother and colleague.**

Elliot clattered down the phone and looked at the rest of the squad room.

"Liv's bringing in the baby for show-and-tell this afternoon," he announced. "Shit goes to hell or we've got an influx of pervs in here – someone remember to call her so she doesn't haul the kid all the way down here."

Munch glanced up from his desk. "Ah, the obligatory presentation of the boy child," he said.

Elliot gave him a bit of a glare. "Maybe you can try to not hurt anyone's feelings while she's in too," he suggested.

Munch looked at him. "What's that supposed to mean? I've got nothing against Liv's baby. I love all babies – that aren't mine."

"Just keep the smart-ass comments to yourself while she's here with Noah," Elliot told him sternly.

"You're making it sound like the kid's got an extra leg growing out of its head that I can't comment on. The kid looked healthy enough in the previous obligatory photos that jammed up my email."

"OK, John, maybe you don't want to see the baby – but there's some people in this building that will want to see him," Elliot spat back at him. "So just … be less you."

Munch grabbed at his heart. "That hurts. Truly. You think I'd say something mean about Liv's baby?"

"You've been known to stick your foot in your mouth," Elliot nodded at him - just thinking about the time Munch had sent his partner into a rage by suggesting she even consider in-vitro.

"This coming from the rage-o-holic," Fin interjected.

Elliot shot him a look but offered no comment. He'd learned it wasn't worth getting into it with Fin – and he'd been reminded by Cragen that they kept it civil in the squad room more than a couple times when he'd flared up.

"Just … everyone … be fucking nice. End of story," Elliot said and looked back at his paperwork.

"Since when does Liv need us pussy-footing around her?" Fin said.

Elliot sighed. "Since she's hormonal."

"And you know this because?"

"She's a new, nursing mother," Elliot said.

"She's nursing? Isn't she supposed to be back in another few months? Why isn't that kid on the bottle?" Munch said. "She better not be whipping anything out in here. The guys in the cage will love that."

"I think she knows better than to be 'whipping it out' in here," Elliot sighed.

"New mothers don't think straight," Munch offered. "Post-partum crazies."

"What do you know about it?" Fin said. "You're the only one here without kids now."

"And the world is a better place for it," Munch said.

"Well that's damn-straight," Fin agreed. "We don't need anymore of you skinny-white-ass-smart-mouths running around."

Cragen walked out of his office – clearly coming to see what the chatter was about. Likely hoping it was a development in a case. But Munch spotted him first and interjected, "Liv's bringing in the product of her biological clock pinning's."

Cragen shook his head, also clearly annoyed with John's sarcasm in this area. "His name is Noah."

"Noah, zygote, whatever," Munch said.

"Jesus Christ," Elliot glared at him.

"With that good Hebrew name, I think you likely mean Abraham, maybe Moses," he suggested.

Cragen sighed loudly and held up his hands. "OK. It sounds like we are going to have enough distraction and excitement this afternoon. So could we please get some work done now? Or do I have to babysit you?"

"Well, it'd be good practice for when she gets the kid in here," Munch added.

Cragen sighed. "OK. All of you. Back to work. Please – and thank you."


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: Beginnings**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law & Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Will (and his family) and Noah have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: Olivia's baby arrives - but not without complications. Elliot's there to help her through, though. This story is set after Changes and is a prequel to A Complicated State of Happiness and Undeserved.**

**Author's Notes: This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. Her relationship with Elliot is that of partner and protective older brother and colleague.**

She tried to come into the squad room in a way to attract the least attention as possible. So far she hadn't been very successful in that. She'd already been in the building about 25 minutes with people wanting to stop her and talk to her and goo-and-gah at her baby.

She wasn't entirely comfortable doing the visit. She knew it was kind of an obligatory drop-in that all new parents seemed to do a month or so far their baby's arrival. But it was just drawing more attention to herself and her baby than she wanted. She didn't want to feed the gossip mill or add to any speculation about her situation – and what it would mean for her career, if there would be another detective slot opening up in the city and an assignment in special victims.

But it was kind of nice to get some of the attention, though - or for Noah to get it; for people to seem excited to see him and happy for her. It was also nice to get out of the apartment for a bit and have some chit-chat, even though so far it had all been baby focused. She'd had to lecture herself that she wouldn't look at the case board, she wouldn't root around her desk like someone else wasn't using it right now, she wouldn't sneak a peak at any files kicking around, and she wouldn't interject her opinion on anything she might overhear while she was in the squad room. She thought she'd likely be able to restrain herself on all of it – expect maybe the last self-imposed requirement.

Of course, Elliot noticed her first and looked up from whatever paperwork he was working on to give her a smile. He moved to stand up – but his change in facial expression and movement was enough to catch Munch's attention and he turned around to give her a look up and down at her hauling the baby carrier with her sleeping son. He jumped up before Elliot could and held up his arm to block the other man.

"Hey, hey, hey," he said, "you've already had lots of Baby Benson time. Share with the rest of the class."

Olivia made a snort but followed the now cornered off path that directed her to John's desk, where she hoisted tried to hoist Noah's carrier.

"Help her, John," Elliot spat from where he was being forced to stand. "She's not supposed to be lifting things like that."

"El," she snapped and shot him a look and rolled her eyes. "I'm fine."

She actually wasn't. Even dragging Noah in the carrier from the taxi and through the station house – and all the imposed stops for people to gawk at him – had felt like maybe she was overdoing it just a bit and she'd be paying for it that night or the next day. She kind of thought maybe she should've just put Noah into his sling for the trip – but then she'd have people touching her and trying to take a peak down her chest to see his sleeping form. That didn't sound like a pleasant visit to her.

She'd been told to be careful and not life anything heavier than just him – not the carrier and him – for at least the first six weeks – if not more like eight. But, that just honestly, wasn't very realistic as a single mom. She had to get groceries – and just get around. Though, Elliot had taken it upon himself to ignore her protests and had been showing up with bags of groceries and basic baby and household supplies on his little visits. Worse still, he wouldn't take any money for it. If he did humour her by taking hold of the cash – she'd always find it left somewhere else in the apartment after he left. Once she'd thought she'd successfully passed off the cash, by sneaking it into his jacket pocket instead while he was distracted with Noah. But then his next visit, the cash had reappeared, added to the pile of what she'd tried to give him that time. It pissed her off to no end that he and Kathy were spending money on her and her baby. They had enough debt and expenses with Eli at home, the twins finishing up private school and the girls finishing up university. They didn't need to be dropping money on her on a weekly basis – she could afford to buy her own groceries and care for her baby. She didn't like even the suggestion otherwise – however kind-hearted it was supposed to be.

She was kind of amazed at how long it was taking her body to bounce back from the surgery. It still hurt – and she swore some of the stitches that were left, apparently dissolving, still hadn't dissolved. Not to mention now with getting into a nursing routine, she upper body just felt overloadedly-heavy and ached half-the-time too. It made her sometimes almost plead with Noah not to dawdle so much at her breast and to give her some relief. Other times it sent her seeking the breast pump, hoping to get some extra relief. But that brought about its own tenderness for her too. She felt a bit like a walking bruise at the moment.

John apparently decided to listen to Elliot's bark over the potentiality of her bite, though, and wrapped his hands over the carrier handle with hers and took over the bulk of the weight, even though she didn't let go, to help her settled her son down on top of his disaster zone. She reached over and fiddled with the handle, until she got the latch popped to push it back so they could see Noah better.

John gazed at him with a little too much interest – as Fin reappeared from whatever he'd been up to. He wandered over and took a look too.

"Hey Liv," he nodded at her. "Nice looking kid," was all he offered after looking at her son for a few seconds and then rounded back to his desk and sat down, apparently done with his obligatory goo-gah at the baby.

She gave a little snort but allowed a smile. "Thanks."

"Geez, Liv, you'd think your were a prokayrote or something," John said as he continued to examine Noah. "Did any of Daddy Unknown's genes get into this kid."

Elliot made a loud cough and John and her both glanced at him again – to see Munch getting another deadly glare.

"Sorry, Daddy Unnamed," John suggested instead. He sighed. "The baby has a lot of your facial features, Liv," he offered instead. And she gave him a small smile for the effort.

She was definitely picking out bits of herself in the baby. It was without much doubt that Noah had inherited her hair and her eyes. But she felt like most of the rest of him looked unfamiliar to her right now – and there were moments she felt like he must look like Kurt then. A part of her was a little scared that as her baby grew, she'd be seeing a mirror image of his father. It wasn't that Kurt didn't have his own handsome qualities – or even that he'd done anything particularly wrong to hurt her – at least during their relationship. Their relationship had just been what it was – and he was just who he was and she was who she was. They were in different places in their lives and wanted different things for their futures.

But how he'd dealt with the pregnancy had definitely hurt. It had made her change her perspective on him and what kind of man he was quite a lot. She wasn't quite sure how much of him she wanted to see of him in her son. She really wasn't sure how much she wanted to see him ever again at that point, either. But a child deserved to have a father – to know who they were and where they came from. If Kurt could get his act together. So far, though, he was showing about as much reaction to her letting him know that the baby had arrived as he had when she let him know she was pregnant. Which meant he wasn't reacting and she actually wasn't even entirely sure if he'd gotten the message wherever he was trekking around Afghanistan with the troops at the moment. She'd stopped looking at the Ledger to see his articles and was trying to pretend like she didn't care where he was and what he was doing.

She hadn't really made public who the father of the baby was. She figured if they all really stopped and thought about it and did the math, they could likely come to their own conclusions. The IAB had made her relationship with Kurt become public information – despite her intentions to keep her private life private. John had insisted on making some of his jokes during her pregnancy about what donor number she'd used; who the hell was she dating now, which had made her feel like the guys were a little too aware of her constant parade of failed relationships and usually casual boyfriends – like the job ever let her really get a relationship beyond the casual first few dates stages before the men went running for the hills or she just gave up; and, what poor schmucks managed to get dragged into that mess. She thought at the time John had meant it as a friendly joke and assumed she likely did have a boyfriend in her life that would be involved. So even though it had upset her a bit – she'd made no comment, knowing that after he clued in that she was definitely doing this on her own, he'd feel a tad bad about his flippancy.

John had shifted his attention to dangling his little blue Beanie NYPD bear in front of Noah's face. Her baby had opened his eye but was shifting his line of sight elsewhere. After being in the NICU, her son was still finding faces and activity overly stimulating. He often didn't even meet her line of sight yet – even when nursing - and she'd yet to receive the social smile from him. She was a little restless about it – as fears about development and even Asperger's and autism started to overwhelm her mind. But her pediatrician had told her she was over-reacting at that point. That Noah just needed time to adjust and catch up – that he'd likely snap out of it by two or three months. So she was trying to be patient.

She moved John away a bit and scooped her son out of the carrier and bounced him. The visit and all the new faces looking at him that afternoon was going to be over stimulating enough for him. He didn't need toys being dangled in front of his face too. What he was going to need was several hours of laying on top of her chest in the quiet and the dark when they got home.

She patted his back a bit. "Don't you worry, Noah," she told him, casting John a look. "Unkie Munchie says lots of silly things he doesn't really mean."

John crossed his arms. "I don't remember giving you permission to use that alias," he said.

She gave him a smile. "Oh, com'on, El's kids got an Unkie Munchie," she teased.

"That name disturbs me on more levels than I even want to get into," Fin interjected into the conversation again. "Especially with where we work," he made a disgusted face and shutter of his shoulders.

"I thought I'd almost managed to get that monkey off my back," John said. "But then you two had to go and keep procreating." He waved his hand towards her and Elliot. "I'm going to be dead before these latest kids outgrow it."

"He likes it," she whispered to Noah and bounced him a bit more.

"I don't like it," John protested, "but I might allow it if I can a chance to hold the kid."

She gave him another small smile and took a step forward to start transferring her baby to his waiting arms, making sure to reposition John's arms a bit to make sure he had Noah's head and neck well supported.

"I can't believe you're letting HIM hold your baby," Fin commented sarcastically, like even being near Munch might infect her son with sarcasms and paranoia.

"Don't worry, Fin, you can have your turn too," she teased him.

He shook his head. "I don't do babies," he said. "I can see him from here just fine."

"Ken is evidence otherwise," she commented, stroking Noah's head as John bounced him around and babbled non-sense at him.

"And look at how that turned out – spent most of his life hating me and he's gay," Fin said.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that's definitely because you held him wrong – or not enough."

Fin snorted and looked back to his work.

Cragen came out of his office to take in the scene. Elliot was still standing guard – a little too over-protectively. He wandered over.

"Hey Captain, your future star detective is checking out the joint," Munch commented.

Cragen gave Olivia a small smile. He'd stayed at the hospital several hours after Elliot had called him about his partner's early – and emergency – delivery. So he'd gotten to see the baby in his complete infancy. But he'd more than taken the hint that Olivia wanted her privacy and space – and hadn't overstepped his bounds with repeat visits.

He touched her shoulder in a small greeting as he passed to go and take a closer look at the baby's development over the past six weeks. He smiled at the child and stroked his clenched fist as John bounced him around, with his mother carefully watching on. He glanced back at his detective.

"He's looking really well," he told her with a smile.

She nodded.

"Here," John said, moving to transfer him to the captain's arms. "You take a shot at corrupting him in his infancy."

The baby settled into his arms – still not even fussing about all the activity around him. Cragen smiled at him – and gave Olivia a wide grin.

"He's got a good temperament putting up with all of this," he said, bouncing the little boy and making some small faces at him.

She rubbed at her eyebrow. "Yeah, he's pretty good. Pretty content most of the time. He'll be fussing soon, though, wanting a feeding. Our visit has lasted a bit longer than anticipated. Took a while to get from security to up here."

"We were promised we wouldn't have to see your breasts," Munch commented, having moved to get coffee.

She gaped at him for a moment. "Sorry, if breastfeeding is offensive to you, John," she shook her head.

"On the contrary, I think breastfeeding is the way to go. Now I could tell you about some of the studies about formula …"

She held up her hand. "I'm good. Thanks," she told him, getting slightly annoyed.

John shrugged. "We've got some looky-loos in the cage," he said, gesturing over.

She rolled her eyes. "As much as I'd love to put on a show for all of you – I was going to take him up to the cribs before we left. But thanks for your good faith in my judgment, John."

Munch gave no response and worked at fixing up his afternoon coffee the way he wanted.

The whole spat, just made Cragen rock the baby a bit more. "You see what your mom has got to put up with here, Noah," he told her son.

"Yeah, and now I'm stuck putting up with it for another 18 years," she said, tugging teasingly at Noah's little foot.

Elliot snorted. "Try 21, at least."

She cringed. "I don't think so."


End file.
